


Bleeding Isn't Optional for Most of Us

by actually18pigeons



Series: Whumptober 2020 [8]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Caring Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Cutting, Depressed Evan "Buck" Buckley, Depression, Eddie Diaz Takes Care of Evan "Buck" Buckley, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley Has Bad Parents, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major self harm trigger warning, NOT a suicide attempt, Oblivious Evan "Buck" Buckley, Pre-Relationship, Self-Harm, Slow Burn Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Whumptober 2020, Worried Eddie Diaz, also understanding the concept of consent, buddie, no.10, not too slow though, we love talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actually18pigeons/pseuds/actually18pigeons
Summary: In the midst of recovering from the leg injury, Buck relapses with self-harm, but the blood thinners make that a bit more of a problem than he anticipated. So what does he do as he's bleeding out on his bathroom floor? Call Eddie of course. Major self-harm trigger warning. Be careful please.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Series: Whumptober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941847
Comments: 13
Kudos: 285





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I literally entered this fandom a week ago. I'm on 3x06 and it's been 7 days. That's fine. But this show and this fandom are fantastic. The ships! 
> 
> 2\. Title is an Eileen Wilks quote from On the Prowl. Not mine.
> 
> 3\. MAJOR GRAPHIC SELF HARM TRIGGER WARNING please be careful. 
> 
> 4\. This is a fill for Whumptober 2020 Prompt 10, Blood Loss. 
> 
> 5\. Enjoy.

It was supposed to just be for coping with the stress of the last few months. One or two shallow cuts, just to ease the pain for a second. A habit re-emerging from his teenage years. But things had changed in the decade since then, he found a job he loved and had that torn away from him. He had fallen in and out of love, losing those most important to him. The biggest, most relevant change though was that he had gone on blood thinners. 

But as Buck stood at his bathroom sink with a razor hovering over his arm he wasn’t thinking about anything but the rush- that rush of adrenaline he had been seeking his whole life, and this, he knew, was a surefire way to get it. He checked his phone lying on the counter next to him, unsurprised by the lack of notifications. He hadn’t talked to anyone in days, and nobody had reached out. It’s not like he expected them to. 

Abby went to Ireland and Ali left him. Maddie wanted him out of her apartment and Eddie… Eddie would never return his feelings, and he wasn’t about to ruin the closest friendship he had ever had just because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth closed. Nobody needed him around. Nobody wanted him.

He thought back to the first victim in his long line of failures. That man on the rollercoaster who wouldn’t take his hand. Eddie probably would have been able to save him, to talk to him, get him down. But he couldn’t. So many lives had been lost because of his shortcomings. 

He gently pulled the blade across his arm, relishing the rush of endorphins through his system. He dragged the blade over his arm twice more, leaving three straight red lines on his forearm before setting the razor down on the sink. He watched in fascination as the blood beaded and started to run down his arm into the sink. Blood was never interesting when out on a call when he had to worry about saving lives. But in this moment, it was all in his control, the cuts, the bleeding... the rush. 

But one minute in the bleeding hadn’t slowed down. And two minutes in the bleeding hadn’t slowed down and his fingers began to tingle. Three minutes in the blood was still steadily running down his arm pooling in the porcelain, and it had been years since the last time he had cut, but something was definitely different this time. Then suddenly his brain clicked, breaking through the fog of the adrenaline and taking in the whole scene. The sheer amount of blood he had lost in these last few minutes. It wasn’t clotting and it wasn’t going to if he didn’t do something. Shit. The blood thinners. It was just going to keep bleeding. Keep bleeding until he bled out on his bathroom floor. Shit. He didn’t want to die, that wasn’t the intent of tonight. 

He hurriedly grabbed a nearby hand towel pressing it hard onto his arm, wincing as the fabric further angered the wounds. His heart raced as the tan towel quickly turned crimson. He didn’t remember it being like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Pressing his covered arm into his torso he grabbed his phone off the counter dialing the only person he could think of. Eddie. 

Eddie picked up on the third ring, to be fair it was well past midnight and it wasn’t like him and Buck had a relationship that involved late-night phone calls.  
His voice was rough with sleep as he answered, “Buck? What’s up?”

“Hey, I need you, something happened, I’m sorry, I fucked up, I’m sorry Eddie.” Eddie’s heart raced at the tone of Buck’s voice and the hurried, terrified rush of words. He was fully awake now. 

“Buck, what’s wrong, what happened?”

“There’s so much blood- too much blood. It wasn’t supposed to do that. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

Eddie scrambled around his room, getting dressed in a hurry as he tried to understand what the hell was going on on the other side of the line.

“Evan start over, what happened?”

“I don't know Eddie! It just keeps bleeding- I don’t know how to make it stop!”

“Why’s there blood?”

“I got cut.”

“Where are you?!” 

“At home.”

“Did someone break in?”

“No... Eddie please- I can’t- just come- please I don’t feel good.” His vision was swimming, slight nausea rising, and before he realized what was happening his knees buckled, and he fell back against the sink, sliding down it onto the floor, his bloody arm pressed tightly between his chest and knees. It hurt so much, and not at all. He must have dropped his phone because he heard a muffled voice from somewhere to his left. 

“Okay, Buck I’ll stay on the line, keep pressure on the cut, you’ll be okay. I’m ten minutes out.” Buck’s body relaxed, whether due to relief or blood loss he wasn’t sure. Eddie was on his way. Eddie was going to save him. That’s what Eddie did. He lost track of time as the fog overtook his brain again, the burning of his arm and the steady throbbing in his head the only sensations he could make out. 

“Buck, you still there with me?” A strong voice came from somewhere by his head. When had he lied down? He pressed his cheek into the cool tile, losing himself in the whirlwind of sensations. “Bucky? Are you with me? Buck, I swear to god.”

“Eddie?” He could hear the slight slur in his voice, but that wasn’t important. 

“Buck, are you okay? Are you still bleeding? I’m three minutes away.” 

“It’s slowing down I think, I’m lying on it.”

“On the wound?”

“Yeah, yeah, there’s a towel. I’m lying on it.”

“Okay stay like that buddy, I’m almost there. Stay with me.” 

“I’m with you Eds.” He felt his eyes flutter closed but he was too tired to care. Immediately, or maybe not immediately there was a crash of his front door being thrown open, and Eddie was here. He was here, he was gonna save him. 

“Buck!?” Eddie rushed through the small apartment, before finding Buck lying facedown on the floor in the bloody crime scene-esque bathroom. “Shit Buck, what happened, oh my God.” He fell to his knees beside his best friend, rolling him onto his back and finding a slow pulse as Buck’s eyes fluttered open.

“Buck what the fuck!?”

Buck didn’t reply, tears forming in his already bloodshot eyes. Eddie’s eyes scanned the room before settling on the bloody razor blade next to the sink. 

And as he peeled the soaked towel off of Buck’s arm it confirmed what he originally thought. 

“You did this to yourself?”

“I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t want to die, I just wanted the pain to ease, just for a minute so I could breathe.”

“But you’re on blood thinners, Evan! Any major trauma could cause you to bleed out. This is serious. You need to get to the hospital.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. 

“Please Eddie no. Please don’t call them. I can’t go to the hospital. Just fix me. You can do it. I know you can.”

“Buck, you’ve lost a fair amount of blood. I know how to help to an extent, but it’s normally what I would do to tide the patient over until I could get them to an actual hospital for a proper IV and supervision.”

“Please Eddie.” Eddie sighed, scanning the bloody body of his best friend. As an answer, he slid his phone back into his pocket, and Buck’s head dropped back to the floor below him in relief. 

“But if you lose consciousness or start bleeding again, I’m calling them.” He reached into a sink cabinet pulling out another towel and wrapping it over the original towel. “Let’s get you turned around.” He guided Buck’s body around as gently as he could so he could prop his legs up on the closed toilet seat and held Buck’s arm up into the air hoping to continue to slow the bleeding. At least he was conscious, if not fully aware. The bleeding was definitely minimal now, the second towel barely stained at all. Eddie reached up grabbing one of the many cups littering the counter- a well-timed side effect of Buck’s recent depression. Filling it with water he placed in onto the floor next to him before guiding Buck’s head into his lap, propped up so he could take small sips of the water. He needed to start replenishing the lost fluid as soon as possible. 

“I’m so sorry Eds. I didn’t mean it.” Eddie ran gentle fingers through Buck’s hair, trying to convey some feeling he wasn’t even sure of at the moment. 

They sat there for almost 30 minutes, Eddie’s knees getting stiff from kneeling on the ground, and Buck’s eyes slowly clearing up as he drank and the cuts on his arm finally began to clot. 

“I’m good now Eddie. You can go now.”

“I’m not going to leave you like this Evan. Like it or not I’m here for the long haul. And that includes the mornings after rough nights. And we will be talking about this. In the morning. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit, then we can go to bed.”

Buck’s thoughts latched onto the ‘we’. We’re going to bed. His bed. His lips quirked at the thought, but he attempted to cover it by lightly clearing his throat. Eddie smirked as he supported Buck as he sat up, leaning him up against the cabinet as Eddie shuffled through the drawers for gauze and tape. Buck continued to take sips of the water as he cradled his arm against his ruined shirt. God, he was tired. 

Eddie began working with medical efficiency now that the true danger was passed, and within minutes the cuts were cleaned and bandaged. Eddie stood, quickly washing Buck’s blood off his hands, and reaching down to pull Buck up alongside him. He wavered a bit, but not so much as to be concerning. 

“Actually wait, you’re covered in blood, let me grab you some clothes so you don’t end up staining anything more than you already have.” Eddie set Buck down so he was sitting on the toilet lid, and Eddie jogged out of the bathroom, coming back a few moments later with two pairs of clothing. Eddie changed first, not thinking much of it as he pulled on a pair of Buck’s sweatpants and a t-shirt. He’d rather be in his clothes than covered in his blood. He kneeled next to Buck, shimmying his stained shirt over his head when Buck made no move to undress himself. 

“I’m tired Eds.”

“I know Buck, I think half of it was the blood loss, you did also basically just have a panic attack over the amount of blood. Those combined will take it out of you.” He helped Buck stand, and supported him as he slid his sweatpants off, and slid the new ones on, then newly dressed and relatively clean Eddie wrapped a sturdy arm around Buck’s back, the two of them slowly making their way up the stairs to the loft. Leaving Buck lying lazily on top of the covers Eddie ran back downstairs grabbing several sports drinks and some crackers from Buck’s kitchen, before returning to his side. 

“Eddie, can I show you something?” Buck sat up, staring down at his bare feet as Eddie took a seat on the mattress next to him. 

“Always.” Buck guided Eddie’s hand to his right forearm, where the black tattoo encircled his forearm. Eddie’s fingers brushed over the tattoo, and the thick scar it covered. How had he never noticed this?

“It was a coverup from one of the last times I cut. Went a bit too deep, didn’t end up in the hospital, but let’s just say it wasn’t a good time.” Buck sighed, looking up hesitantly, trying to gauge Eddie’s reaction. But Eddie stayed silent, meeting Buck’s eyes gently as his fingers continued to ghost up and down his forearm. Buck took a deep breath before continuing. 

“That’s the real reason they wouldn’t let me into the Navy. Apparently, you can’t have a history of self-injury, they don’t want to immediately have to put you on suicide watch.”

“Buck I had no idea.”

Buck smirked sadly, “Yeah, that’s kinda the point Eddie.”

“But doesn’t the LAFD have similar restrictions?”

“I only passed it through several lies of omission, but when I joined the department I was 7 years clean of anything. They didn’t ask, I didn’t tell. I thought it was behind me. And it was. Until now. But they don’t know and they can’t know.”

“You need to tell someone Buck. You shouldn’t have to handle this alone. Tell Bobby. Or a therapist. They can help you.”

“Eddie please, you know I won’t be able to pass the psych eval to get back out there if they know. We handled it and we don’t have to tell anyone. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t like this Buck.”

“Please… for me. This would change the way people think of me. I can’t let them know it’s gotten this bad. I didn’t even want you to find out.” His gaze fell back down to his lap, following Eddie’s hand as it traced circles along his uninjured forearm. 

“Why would this affect the way I think of you?” Eddie responded gently, reaching out to rub a gentle thumb along Buck’s jawline, “We all have our own coping mechanisms, I get it, and I will support you no matter what. I will be here for the highs and lows, and everything in between.”

“Really?” Buck’s voice cracked with emotion and hope.

“I’m here tonight aren’t I? I’ll come when you call. Every time. Now let’s get some sleep.”

“You’re staying?”

“I’m not leaving you alone after the night you’ve had. I’ll get someone to cover my shift tomorrow, and we can spend the day together. Okay?”

Buck smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time in months. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm writing chapter 3, I realized I referenced Eddie's fighting despite this taking place kinda between season 2 and 3, clearly before Rage, so I deleted that minor thing. So yeah, this is like post truck, the cast is off, and he's recovering, (I changed the fic summary to disclude the blood clots, those haven't happened yet) and pre-tsunami.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have several works I want to update but somehow this one happened. This feels like a filler chapter, but if it would make sense for it to be chapter 2/2 then I might consider this work finished. But maybe like telling Bobby/the team? Idk. Again, mentions of self-harm, be careful.

The remainder of the night was a blur to Buck. When he awoke a few hours later sunlight was streaming through the apartment’s large windows and he was tucked into bed in different clothes than he remembered putting on last night. He rolled over, wincing at the sharp pain in his arm, and the duller throbbing in his head. Confusedly he took in the various drinks on his bedside table, and the… snoring?

He inched closer to the edge of his bed, peering over the edge. Eddie was sprawled out sound asleep on the floor next to his bed, wrapped in several blankets from the linen closet downstairs. Buck continued to stare at Eddie’s sleeping form as he tried to piece together whatever the hell happened last night. His memory was a jumble of seemingly random scenes. He remembered being in the bathroom, Eddie showing up, but anything beyond that...

He reached up to rub his temples, the throbbing in his head making it hard to focus and- damn it. There were several bandages covering various spots on his wrist and forearm. And if he pulled one back to confirm… yep that’s why Eddie was here with him. Fuck. Immediately he was back in his childhood home, bandaging new cuts, the instant anxiety of having to hide it from his parents flooding through him, his eyes flitting to the bathroom door, afraid someone would find out. He flopped back against his pillows, cursing whatever had happened last night. Seven years! Seven years down the drain for what? The momentary rush? And now Eddie knew. And he was going to tell Bobby and the team and they’d never let him have his job back and they’d think he was weak and-

He was pulled out of his spiraling thoughts when Eddie began to stir next to him, limbs stretching as his eyes blinked open.

“Morning Buck, how ya feeling?” Eddie mumbled, still half asleep, a light smile on his face as he looked up at Buck.

“Why are you on the floor?” Was the only response Buck could think of, immediately cursing himself for not thinking of something more eloquent. Maybe thanking Eddie for coming or apologizing for being such a fuck-up.

“Well, the couch is really far away from you-”

“You could have shared the bed.”

“You mentioned that in passing last night but you didn’t give me a clear affirmative and you were kind of out of it so... it didn’t feel right,” Buck smiled, how was he so lucky to have a man like this in his life. He could name several of his exes who would have crawled in beside him with no hesitation, no regard for his awareness of the situation- not that Eddie was his… well maybe. He sat up slowly, reaching a hand towards where Eddie sat wrapped in blankets on his floor.

“Well I’m giving you a clear affirmative now if you want to join me,” he patted the bed beside him, not sure if he was coming off as serious or semi-joking.

Eddie stood up slowly, taking a step towards Buck’s bed before pausing.

“Buck... what are we doing right now?” Buck took in Eddie’s body language, the confusion in his eyes. Had he been misreading their interactions for the past few months? Wasn’t this what Eddie wanted? Maybe not.

“I don’t fucking know Eddie,” Buck sighed, “it can be everything or nothing, whatever you want. I’m just a friend offering a place in my very large bed to my friend who just spent the night lying on my hardwood floor after stopping me from bleeding out. I’m not asking for anything more right now. Not unless you want it to be.”

“I just can’t help but feel like I’m taking advantage of you if I accept.”

“You’re not! I’m fine!”

“Buck everything that happened last night points to the fact that you’re not.” Eddie gestured vaguely to Buck’s arm. “That's not to say I’m not picking up what you’re putting down, but I just don’t think either of us is in a great headspace to be making big decisions about the state of our relationship.”

Buck’s heart sped up. Our relationship. Him and Eddie. But how could Eddie want to be near him after last night? His biggest weakness put on full display. And he couldn’t even handle it on his own, he had needed Eddie to kick down his door and save his life. His heart started pounding for another reason. God, Eddie was going to leave him. He was just trying to let him down gently, not wanting a repeat of last night if he left too abruptly.

Eddie stepped closer to Buck, startling Buck out of his thoughts. He placed one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping Buck’s cheek. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I know you said you wouldn’t think differently of me last night,” Buck stared at his hands, nails picking at his cuticles, “But how can you not? How can you trust me after this? How can you trust me to work alongside you… or-or be with Christopher?”

“Buck I will always trust you. Last night doesn’t change that. You told me last night that it was an accident, and the past seven years are proof that you can put this behind you. Sometimes slip-ups happen.”

“But that’s the thing!” Buck’s voice cracked as his volume increased. “It was a slip-up! And that negates the last seven years!” Didn’t Eddie understand? Sure, he had been clean of cutting for years, but only because he could be self-destructive at work. He had been barreling towards a relapse since he was put on medical leave, all his other 'healthy' coping mechanisms taken away in a flash, last night just solidified the fact that he hadn’t actually made any progress.

Eddie rubbed his thumb against Buck’s cheek, raising Buck’s chin to look up at him, “Did you trust Bobby any less after he relapsed?” Buck shook his head slightly, avoiding Eddie’s gaze, “Exactly. Relapses are part of recovery. And there’s strength in reaching out for help. _You_ called me last night. _You_ trusted me to be there, and I trust you in return.”

“But what if it happens again?” 

“I don’t think it will. But it might. And that’s okay. I’ll be right by your side. But today- right now… that’s all that matters. We’ll get to tomorrow when it comes. So let’s take today for what it is- a new day.”

Eddie gently pulled Buck up to his feet, enveloping him in a hug. Buck relaxed into him immediately, tucking his head into Eddie’s neck. Right where he belongs. Today is a new day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three months later and I write this chapter in about 2 hours. Originally I was trying to write a whole overview of like ah it all continued blah blah ok season 4, but then realized I could break it up and have multiple chapters dealing with the aftermath of the first two chapters and moving forward. 
> 
> So chapters 1 and 2 take place between seasons 2 and 3. This one takes place during/right before 3x01. 
> 
> Warnings: significant mentions of self-harm, mentions of self-hatred/depression/anxiety
> 
> Please be careful.

As he promised, Eddie stayed the next day at Buck’s house, then the next evening after his shift, but after 3 days spending all his non-working hours at Buck’s apartment while his family watched Christopher, he couldn’t rationalize leaving his son for much longer to take care of his… friend. Eddie was about to call Abuela again, delaying picking up Chris for a few more hours when Buck finally intervened. 

“Please Eddie, I’m fine, it was a one-time thing, it was a mistake and I’m so sorry I involved you but-” 

Eddie held a hand up to stop Buck’s rambling, his eyebrows knitting together with a mixture of concern and frustration. 

“You’re concerned about involving me? Not the fact that you almost killed yourself? Not the fact that you thought the best way of easing your pain was slicing your arm open, not calling me, or- or Bobby or Maddie? Not… I don’t know- literally anything else!” 

Eddie placed a gentle hand on Buck’s chest, and Buck’s hand instinctively came up to cover it. Eddie stepped closer, lowering his voice, feeling Buck’s racing heartbeat where his hand remained flat on his chest. 

“Buck. Look at me,” Buck’s eyes flicked away so Eddie reached up with his free hand, guiding Buck’s chin up until their eyes met, rubbing his thumb over Buck’s cheekbone, “Like I said that first night, I will _always_ come when you call. You are _not_ an inconvenience. You are _not_ a burden. You _never_ have to apologize for asking for help. You deserve help, you deserve to heal, and I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it.”

Buck sniffed, face crumbling slightly as he released Eddie’s hand to rub the heels of his hands into his eyes. Eddie wondered how many times Buck had heard those words in his life. Had his parents ever told him that? Surely Maddie must have. But did he ever believe her? 

“Evan Buckley,” Buck’s head shot up, “Yeah that’s right I just full-named you. I will leave you alone under one condition. You. Call. Me. The second you even think about cutting. The second you find yourself searching through the drawers for a blade. I don’t care if it’s fucking 3 am and I’m with Chris, you call me, and I will pick up, and I will come to you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good. I’ll call you before my shift tomorrow.” 

Buck raised his eyebrows, “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” And with that Eddie shrugged his bag onto his shoulder and walked out the door. 

The weeks dragged on, Buck healed, physically at least, and Eddie hovered whenever he was available. If anyone at the station noticed how preoccupied Eddie seemed, or how often he checked his phone, no one commented. 

And despite his reservations, Eddie kept his promise, just like Buck knew he would. If anyone asked Eddie how Buck was doing he’d respond with a nonchalant ‘about as well as can be expected' and that seemed to suffice. Not that Eddie was happy about it. But he’d respect Buck’s wishes, even if he didn’t want to. Buck would talk about it when he was ready… hopefully. 

Whenever either of them got anywhere near the topic, Eddie emphatically encouraged Buck to tell Maddie, or Bobby or a therapist, anyone, hoping that maybe if he kept bringing the idea up it’d get through Buck’s thick skull. Yet Buck continued to insist he was fine, he was handling it. 

And every time Eddie tried to bring up their discussion about their relationship, it was the same runaround- it was fine, they’d talk later. But the weeks passed, and each time Buck’s eyes met his as they watched movies on his couch or ate dinner with Christopher, he’d wonder just when ‘later’ was, or did Buck not want what Eddie thought he wanted? Maybe he was dealing with bigger things in his life, or maybe he just didn’t want Eddie the way Eddie wanted him. That morning and the invite to sit on his bed with him was growing distant. 

So while Eddie kept his promise not to tell anyone, Buck tried to move on. It’s not like he planned on doing it again, he just had to get through the couple weeks until the cuts scarred and faded enough to not be noticeable, then he could pretend it didn’t even happen. Buck was fine. It was a slip-up, a one-time thing. Or that’s what he told himself as he resisted the urge to scratch at the almost fully scabbed lines on his arm. 

This was different than when he was a teenager, right? Someone noticed this time. Someone cared. He hoped Eddie cared. Maybe Eddie was just like his parents, repeating fake words straight from the family therapist. Everyone left him with gaping wounds and tried to cover them with bandaids made of platitudes. And Eddie was probably no different. Once he realized how truly screwed up Buck was he’d backpedal and brush off all those seemingly genuine things he’d said. Nobody meant what they said. 

The urges got worse as the scars healed. In some twisted way, not being able to see the physical damage made it all hurt worse. His arm was healing, so why wasn’t his brain? Why couldn’t the anxiety scar over and go away? How could he communicate this kind of internal pain without having the physical mutilation to prove it? Prove the mental pain is real and lasting and exhausting and somehow hurting more than his leg ever did. At least he knew that would heal. This he wasn’t so sure about. 

So he found himself standing before his bathroom sink regularly, holding the small blade between his fingers, just looking at the sharpened metal. That alone made his heart hammer, blood rushing in his ears as his neck prickled with sweat. No, he told Eddie he wouldn’t do it again. Then again he also told Eddie he’d call but clearly that hadn’t happened. 

He was fine. Soon he’d be back to work, and he’d have an arsenal of adrenaline-producing, not obviously self-destructive coping mechanisms to fall back on. 

And if he happened to wrap the razor in tape and slip it into his pocket before leaving his apartment, that was just in case. Nothing was going to happen. He just wanted it nearby. Just in case. 

So life went on. Buck stayed clean, and Eddie didn’t push the topics.

And then the tsunami hit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably take place around Rage. Maybe getting into and comparing Buck and Eddie's not ideal coping mechanisms, and then the impact the lawsuit has on this whole... thing. Comments for where y'all want this to go would be appreciated!


End file.
